


Of Truths Half-Told

by HighlyOpinionatedNerd



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Caliginous Romance | Kismesis, M/M, and riddle telling of course, i had fun with this one, lots of talking, writing comic book characters is interesting cause they're all so gosh darn dramatic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 15:24:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15799290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HighlyOpinionatedNerd/pseuds/HighlyOpinionatedNerd
Summary: Riddler's been black flirting with Batman for years now. He never imagined that one day, Batman would actually be inclined to flirt back.





	Of Truths Half-Told

**Author's Note:**

> For those who aren't familiar with the concept of caliginous (aka black) relationships: I like to describe them as 'a love based on rivalry', which in a best case scenario results in personal growth and improvement on each partner's part. But that's not really what this is, since we're talking about a relationship between a hero and a villain. This is more of a 'trying to prove you're smarter than each other with a little rough sex on the side' kind of thing. Incidentally, black romance is originally a concept from Homestuck, although for our purposes we're going to just pretend that it's a normal occurrence.

The first thing Ed did, whenever he was safely away from the cops and in his own space again, was light a fire. It was always, always the first thing he did. They kept it so _cold_ in prison. The warmth made him feel more like himself.

He had a couple of secret hideouts and safehouses throughout the city, but even if he didn’t, there were plenty of empty spaces for him to take over. Gotham was full of free real estate, if you knew where to look.

This particular night, he’d managed to snag an empty warehouse in the Narrows. One that the Penguin had apparently similarly made use of in the past; some of his stuff was even still there.

He found a big metal trash can, dragged it over to the back wall, piled it high with flammable junk- which, again, not hard to find in Gotham- and lit it with a match he found somewhere in the left-behind stuff. He also found a rather rickety-looking stool, which he pulled up close to the fire. He sat down and took a deep, deep breath.

It was nice to be out again. Felt good. Prison was so boring. He had so many _plans_ , so much to do.

Over the next few days, he settled in to his new warehouse. No one tried to challenge him for it, and no police showed up either, which was good. He fetched some things from his other stockpiles around town and just like that, all traces of the Penguin were erased. This was the Riddler’s hideout now.

He also began to set the first of his plans in motion. He’d had plenty of time to think about how his next meeting with Batman was going to go while behind bars. In fact, it had been mostly all he’d thought about. He had come up with some really good stuff this time. It was going to be _perfect_.

On the eve of the big day, he lit a fire in the big metal trash can, and sat near the flames on his tall, rickety stool. He breathed in the smell of the smoke and let himself relax a little.

It was going to go well this time. He could feel it, in his bones. This was it. This was going to be his big break, this was going to be the scheme that forced Batman into recognizing him as an equal. He just knew it would.

Without warning, there was a sudden heavy _thump_ behind him, nearly giving him a heart attack.

“Riddler,” a familiar voice growled as he struggled not to fall off his stool in fright.

“B-Batman?!” he spluttered, whipping around so fast that he almost fell for a second time. “You’re here? _Now?_ ”

“I got your clue,” Batman said, stepping a little closer to the fire. A distant part of Ed’s brain wondered how he’d gotten in without him noticing.

“Clue? What clue?”

“On the side of the laundromat in Chinatown.”

Ed stared at Batman, slack-jawed, processing. “But...but...it was covered up! I put a tarp over it!”

“Oh.” It was hard to tell, but he sounded almost surprised. “It must have gotten blown off. There’s a front coming in.”

“You weren’t supposed to be here until _tomorrow_.”

“Well, consider this a change of plans, then.”

“Shit.” Ed sighed deeply and slumped low on his stool. This was a disaster that, unfortunately, he had not planned for. “Alright. Fine. Change of plans, indeed. Fucking _fine_. Listen, if you’re gonna take me in can I at least change my clothes? I’m not even wearing my costume…”

Batman took another menacing step forward. “The clue said to come alone.”

“I know. So?”

“You tell me. You have a hostage, don’t you? Where are they?”

“What? No. Don’t be ridiculous. Do I look like I’m in any state to be keeping hostages? Please.”

“I’m not quite sure I believe you.”

“I’m not. Even. _Dressed_.” Ed scowled. “There’s no hostages. It’s the truth.”

“Hmm. Then why specifically ask me to come alone?”

“Why not? I have no interest in any of your little sidekicks. I don’t care about them. They’re all morons. Well, some of them are ok I guess, but they can’t play the game at the same level as we do.”

“Really.” Ed could practically hear the one raised eyebrow in Batman’s tone of voice. “Is that all this is to you? A game?”

Ed blinked. “Well, yeah. I guess. Something wrong with that?”

“Any of the others would have tried to kill me half a dozen times by now.”

“Oh.”

Ed didn’t think they had never had this long of a conversation before. It was...kind of exhilarating, actually. His heart was pounding in his chest, from more than just fear. This was probably one of the most dangerous things he’d ever done, but he didn’t want to stop.

After a moment’s deliberation, he slid off the stool and stood in front of Batman, crossing his arms and hoping that he looked more confident than nervous.

“I don’t want you dead,” he said, truthfully. “I want to beat you, yes, to humiliate you, sure. But I don’t particularly want to kill you.”

“Is that so.”

“It’d be boring without you.”

Batman stood in silence for a moment, considering him. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that it almost sounds like you’re trying to flirt with me.”

Ed smiled ruefully and rolled his eyes. He had absolutely nothing to lose right now, and the adrenaline pumping through his veins was making him feel a little reckless.

“I have been for at least a couple of years now, actually. Nice to see my efforts are finally being noticed, though.”

“I did notice.” Batman took yet another step forward. Ed could easily have reached out and touch him, but he didn’t. “Of course I noticed. I’m the world’s greatest detective, remember?”

“Well. I understand why you didn’t reciprocate, given the circumstances. The whole mess with Joker, and all that. But you could have at least _said_ something.”

“Maybe this is me saying something now.” A small smile played around the corners of Batman’s mouth, probably the most emotion Ed had ever seen him show outright. “If this is all a game, then...maybe I’m ready to deal in.”

“You’re already playing, Batman, and you don’t even know it.” Ed grinned. “But, if you’re ready to raise the level then...yeah, I think I could make that happen.”

He reached up and, with trembling fingers, stretched out a hand towards Batman’s face.

Batman swiftly grabbed Ed by the wrist, gripping him tightly. “You don’t get to touch the mask,” he said flatly.

“Oh, really? What are you going to do to keep me away from it?”

He started to reach up with his other hand, but in one smooth motion Batman grabbed that one too and spun him around, slamming him hard up against the wall and pinning him there. Ed gasped as the wind was knocked out of him, but before he could take in another proper breath, Batman was kissing him, roughly pushing his tongue into Ed’s mouth.

“I don’t play nice,” Batman said quietly, pulling back just far enough to look Ed in the eyes and let him know he was being serious. To give him one last chance to back out, if he wanted.

Backing out was about the last thing Ed wanted to do right now. Instead, he leaned forward and sunk his teeth into Batman’s lower lip, hard enough to draw blood.

“Neither do I.”

 

“Ok, ok, I’ve got one. Riddle me this: I can be seen, but I cannot be caught. I cannot be felt, though most think me hot. What am I?”

“Hmm. Are you electricity?”

“Nope. Guess again, detective.”

“Hmmm.”

The two of them were in the Riddler’s hideout, seated on mismatched stools at a small, round table that Bruce was almost certain had been stolen from a nearby restaurant with outdoor seating. There was a bottle of cheap whiskey open between them on the table, more than halfway gone by now.

It had been a couple of weeks since they had started doing this...whatever this was. Bruce still wasn’t sure. They were treading in uncharted waters here. But, to his great surprise, it mostly seemed to be working out.

“Steam?”

“Bzzt, wrong again! The correct answer was sunlight.”

“Ah.” Bruce shrugged. “I suppose that’s fair.”

“You know the rules. You owe me a truth.”

“Anything in particular you’re interested in?”

“Your secret identity?”

“Besides that.”

“Hmph.” Riddler leaned forward and rested his elbows on the table, his chin in his hands, his startlingly green eyes fixated on Bruce’s. “Why don’t I get to know who you really are? You know who I am. It only seems fair. I won’t tell anybody, I swear.”

“Uh-uh. I can’t take that risk. You know that. Ask me something else.”

“Ok, ok, fine. Tell me about the scar on your left side. You know the one.”

“I know the one.” Bruce took a sip of his whiskey, wondering how much to say. “I got it in Cairo, a long time ago.”

“...Cairo. Well, that’s certainly not the answer I was expecting.”

“What answer were you expecting?”

“Joker. Or maybe Deathstroke. It looks like a stab wound.”

“It was. It wasn’t a particularly bad injury, but I had to stitch it up myself, which is why it left such an ugly scar.”

“What were you doing in Cairo? Justice League business?”

“No, this was way before that. I did a lot of training overseas before I was ready to come back home and get this whole Batman thing started. And no,” he added, recognizing the telltale glint in the Riddler’s eyes, “there’s no official record of any of that. You won’t be able to find out my identity that way.”

“One day, Batman. One day, you’re going to slip up and say something you don’t mean to, and I’ll get you. Just you wait.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

One of the gadgets built into Bruce’s wrist gauntlet beeped softly, reminding him of the time.

He still hadn’t told any of his family members about any of this. He knew that they probably wouldn’t approve, especially after what had happened between him and Joker. Better to keep it secret until he knew, for sure, that he wasn’t making another huge mistake here.

“I have to go.”

The Riddler heaved a deep sigh. “Isn’t that always the story with you. And when am I next going to see you?”

“I’m not sure. Not for a few days, at least.”

“Tch. Fine, be that way then.”

“Don’t get into too much mischief while I’m gone.”

“No promises. Bye then, Batman, bring some good riddles with you next time.”

 

“Hey, Nygma! You in here?”

“Over here, Cobblepot.”

Ed ducked out from under the new workbench he was assembling to meet the Penguin in the middle of the warehouse floor, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Good to see you,” the Penguin said, returning the handshake cordially. “I heard a rumor you were on the loose again. Welcome back to the real world.”

“Why, thank you. What brings you out to my neck of the woods today, hm?”

“I can’t come see you just ‘cause I feel like it?”

“You could. But that’s never been the case before, and I don’t see why you’d suddenly start now.”

Penguin chuckled heartily. “Good to see you’re still as sharp as ever. I’m in the market for a partner right now, actually. I know we’ve had our differences in the past, but whaddaya say? Think you’d be willing to give it another chance?”

“A tempting offer, certainly.”

Ed crossed his arms, considering. In the past, probably as recent as just a few years ago, he would have agreed without even so much as a second thought. He knew that Penguin knew that his curiosity often got the better of him, and as such he always made sure never to tell Ed what any of his plans entailed _until_ he had agreed.

But that habit had gotten Ed burned one too many times by now.

“Thank you for thinking of me, my dear Mr. Cobblepot. But I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, this time.”

Penguin shrugged, not looking particularly upset by Ed’s rejection. Not that the two of them ever showed each other more emotion than they could help. “Alright. Got your own little schemes going, then, do you?”

“But of course.”

“You’re not still on that whole ‘uncover Batman’s true identity’ thing, are you?”

“And if I am?”

“I’m telling you, Nygma, he’s too clever for that shit. Better to just kill him and get it over with.”

Ed frowned derisively at Penguin. “Well, _I’m_ clever too. Just for that, whenever I do find out who he really is, I won’t tell you.”

“Sure, sure, whatever. Welp, I’ll be going then. Good luck with your plans, Nygma. I’ll send some flowers to your funeral.”

 

Bruce went through alarm clocks the way some people went through disposable razors. After a few weeks of hearing the same sounds, he started sleeping straight through his morning alarm. That, and the fact that he had sometimes been known to smash them to bits while still half-asleep.

“Sir, I really must insist that you get out of bed,” Alfred’s voice said from somewhere above him, reaching him loud and clear even through the alarm’s wailing and the blankets pulled up over his head.

“Alright, alright. ‘M coming.”

“Normally, I’d like nothing better than to see you get eight hours of sleep for once, Master Bruce. But you have a meeting at Wayne Enterprises this morning. Remember?”

“Yes,” Bruce said, sitting up and reluctantly pulling the blankets off himself. “Board meeting. Blech. Coffee…?”

Alfred held out a steaming mug, hardly even missing a beat. “You should know, Sir, that Commissioner Gordon called last night after you went to sleep.”

“Mm?” Bruce blinked blearily up at Alfred. “Didn’t hear it. Anything important?”

“Not in particular. He merely wished to check in, and ask if you had discovered anything about the Riddler’s whereabouts.”

“Uh...no, nothing.”

“I thought so. It’s quite unusual for him to have remained off the grid for so long after escaping prison.”

“Yeah. Unusual.” Bruce took another sip of coffee, carefully maintaining a blank expression. If anyone was able to see through his poker faces, it was Alfred. He had to be careful. “Well, hopefully we’ll have him back behind bars soon. I’ll call Jim and catch up with him sometime after the meeting.”

“Very good, Sir. Speaking of the meeting, you might want to start getting dressed.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

“I’ll have breakfast in the kitchen whenever you’re ready, Master Bruce.”

 

“Penguin was in here the other day,” Ed said, keeping his tone as casual and conversational as he could.

“He was? Why?”

“Wanted me to partner up with him.”

“Oh dear god.” Batman pulled a face. “You didn’t agree to it, did you? I hate it when you guys pull that kind of thing.”

“Shut up. No, I didn’t agree to it.”

“Alright. Good. Then, why tell me?”

Ed shrugged a little. “He said he wants to kill you.”

“Yeah. This isn’t exactly new news.”

“Shut up! I just want you to be careful. Because no one’s allowed to kill you until _after_ I find out who you really are.”

“Uh huh.” Batman raised his glass for another sip of whiskey, but Ed didn’t miss the small smile at the corner of his mouth. “Nice to know I’m going to live forever.”

Ed decided not to dignify that with a response, instead reaching over to refill his own glass.

“Since we’re spreading gossip, you ought to know that Gordon was asking after you the other day.”

“Ooh, was he now. How flattering.”

“You idiot, he only wants to know where you are so he can throw you back in jail.”

“I know. But it’s still flattering. I wouldn’t expect you to understand. But nevermind all that, it’s not important. Tell me a riddle.”

“Ok. Riddle me this: I am neither white nor green, I am something in between. Once a year I cast my spell, and when I’m here, the trees will tell. What am I?”

Ed bit his lip, thinking. He hated to admit it, but that was actually a pretty good one. “Are you...wind?”

“Nope.”

“Hmph. Are you…...Christmas?”

Batman actually snorted with laughter at that. “Nope! Close though. Autumn.”

“Fuck! Alright, fine. You win. Fuck, that was actually a pretty good one. Where’d you ever come up with that?”

“Robin gave me the idea. He didn’t see his first real fall until he came to Gotham. It’s his favorite season now.”

“I see.”

There had long been a rumor that the latest in the line of Robins was actually Batman’s son, and Ed was absolutely dying to find out if that was true. But he didn’t ask. He had lost the riddle, and it was Batman’s turn to request a truth from him.

“What would you like to know, detective?”

“...Tell me about your parents.”

“My parents?” Ed raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Just curious.”

“Well, there’s not much to tell. I don’t even really remember my mother- she died of cancer when I was two. My father was your average, run-of-the-mill abusive dickhead. Alcoholic, had a tendency to throw things. He died in a car crash when I was seventeen. Good thing, too.”

“‘Good’?”

“For him, I mean. Because if he hadn’t died in that wreck, I would have killed him. And I’d have taken a lot longer with it. Don’t look at me like that,” he snapped, seeing the look of mixed revulsion and disappointment on Batman’s face. “He deserved to die. He deserved to _suffer_.”

Batman sighed. “You know I can’t agree with that. But I am sorry that he made you feel that your only option was to become a killer at the age of seventeen.”

“Whatever,” Ed muttered, looking away. He tried not to think about his father, if he could help it. It almost always led to the kind of dangerous introspection that made him do stupid things.

The momentary tense silence between them was broken by a soft chirp from one of Batman’s innumerable gadgets.

“I have to-”

“I know. You have to go.” Ed raised his hands in a non confrontational gesture. “Go on, then. I guess I’ll see you in a few days.”

“Yeah, probably.”

Batman stood up from the table, but then hesitated. After a moment he leaned down and kissed Ed, taking him by surprise.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he said as he straightened back up, like some kind of mindreader. “I’ll put you back in prison, don’t think I won’t.”

Ed smiled. “I’d like to see you try, Batman. I’d like to see you try.”

**Author's Note:**

> I was thinking about hero/villain blackrom a little while ago and before I knew it I had become absolutely obsessed with this ship. I mean, it seems to make perfect sense- Ed gets the attention he so desperately craves, and Bruce gets an outlet for all his frustration and anger and all that that _doesn't_ involve jumping off buildings or being shot at. Sounds like a win-win to me!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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